


Honest Lies

by Shoshanna Gold (shoshannagold)



Category: The Killing
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-19
Updated: 2013-04-19
Packaged: 2017-12-08 23:03:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/767092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shoshannagold/pseuds/Shoshanna%20Gold
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cops' kids. No way to get <i>nothin'</i> past them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Honest Lies

**Author's Note:**

> Set just prior to _72 Hours_. Huge thanks to schlicky and simplelyric for the betas!

Holder's phone rings before the alarm goes off, and he wants to ignore it. His ribs hurt like he's been hit by a semi, his head is throbbing, and he's been in bed for maybe three hours. He's trying to _recover_ here. Not to feel sorry for himself or anything, but three nights ago he was lying in the woods, bones broken, bleeding, and at the mercy of the elements.

The weather in the Pacific Northwest is a mean bitch this time of year. The docs at the Ballard had gone on about how lucky he was not to have got hypothermia, and Liz had fussed at him for hours. Like Holder had totally decided on his own it would be real fun to sleep off a concussion under a tree on the Wapi reserve, in the rain. Just thinking about all that makes him want to ignore the phone and close his eyes for another hour, or maybe eight. But – maybe it's Linden calling. If anybody could jailbreak a psych ward, it's his partner.

"Yeah," he mumbles, flipping open the phone without opening his eyes. 

"Holder," the caller says, and, damn it, it's a Linden, but not the one he was hoping. 

"Little man!" he says, trying to sound upbeat, positive. Hell, sounding awake would be a good start, he thinks, and opens his eyes. At least there are no sunny mornings in Seattle. The sun is just coming up, but it's barely breaking through, and the overcast sky outside his window suits both his mood and his hurtin' eyes just fine. "How's the Windy City? You're missin' out on some fine rainy days here, let me tell you. Skies opened up something fierce last night. Think I might kayak to work today, huh? Portage down First Avenue, need be."

Most times, Jack will take the bait, riff off whatever Holder gives him, and everybody’ll have a good time. Not today, apparently. "I called my mom. I called her like ten times, and her phone is off. She told me to call every morning before school, just like I did when I was staying with Regi. She always answers, Holder. Why isn't she answering?"

Little Linden didn't fall from the mama tree: he sounds as fierce and determined as Linden on her best day, or when she's scared out of her mind. One and the same, those things, from what Holder has seen so far.

Holder lives by the steps as best he can. He tries to embrace truth and honesty so that he can live a spiritual life, hold meaning in his heart. It's not just a line he spouted at meetings and for the brass. But there are lies, and then there is truth that can destroy a young heart, and he knows which side the angels would come down on with this one. "She's asleep, little man."

"She never sleeps. C'mon, Holder, tell me what's wrong. She's been hurt, hasn't she?" He sounds scared, but like he's trying not to be, like he's trying to be so brave, and Holder wonders if it won't be his own heart broken by the end of this call. 

"Yo, Jack. I ever lied to you?"

Little Linden is quiet, thinking about it, and that's just like his moms, too. Holder lets him be for a minute. He listens to the sounds in the background and thinks he can hear traffic, and, farther away, kids yelling. Jack's new school must start around nine, he thinks. Probably a good school, then, in a part of town where there's money and stay-at-home moms. In poorer parts of town, schools start earlier so that the parents can drop their kids off before work. It makes sense that Jack's dad does okay: he wouldn't have been able to come out to see his kid at the drop of a hat and stay out here as long as he did without some kind of job security behind him. 

Holder thinks about what to say while he lights up a smoke and takes a heavy drag on it. The nicotine flushes through his lungs. It isn't the same as the first taste of the sweet, deadly lady in the morning, it'll never be the same, but he's made some peace with that. He welcomes the tiny rush to his brain, all the same. He exhales slowly, the last little bits of sleep clearing from his mind. "Hey, you gotta talk to me, I can't see your face. Now, c'mon, I ever been dishonest with you?"

"No," Jack says finally.

Holder nods to himself. Okay. He can work with this. "Your moms is human, even if she don't know it. But you and me know it, right? And sometimes we gotta remind her, you know?"

"Yeah," says Jack.

Right, Holder, tell the kid something he doesn't know. "Yeah. So last night, we didn't have much going on, because sometimes I just gotta take a load off, you feel me? That little walk in the woods slowed me down some, just between you and me. But your moms, she's like that old bunny in those commercials you ain't never seen. She goes until she stops. I made her dinner last night – had to show her that there's food that don't come from a machine, but I think she gets it now. We're chillin' after dinner, talking about Rosie, talking about you, like we do, and she up and falls asleep on my couch. You didn't tell me she had an off button, man. I was worried maybe I'd poisoned her or somethin'. Made sure she was breathing all right, covered her up with a blanket, and went to bed myself. A man's got to know when to take the blessings that come his way, right?"

"Her cell phone is going right to voice mail," says Jack. 

Cops’ kids. No way to get _nothin'_ past them. "Yeah. 'Cause her phone ain't on."

"What?" Now Jack really does sound freaked out. "Holder, she never turns her phone off. Never."

"But we both know there are times she should, don't we?"

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean she does. Oh, fuck, she's really hurt, isn't she?"

Holder listens to the panic and the worry flood over the line from half-way across the country, and, yeah, it's tearing his heart up to hear it. Linden doesn't have to worry about Jack never wanting to come back to her again: if the kid had a credit card and ride, he'd be on his way to O'Hare right now, and wouldn't they be in a fine mess, then. Holder takes a deep drag on his cigarette, lets the smoke fill his lungs for a minute, and exhales slowly, right into the mouthpiece. To a smoker's kid – and Linden had no doubt smoked for most of Jack's life, no matter how many packs of gum she chomped through these days – the noise is somehow soothing. Like their lizard brains know that nobody takes an easy puff of smoke when the world's falling apart. Using his tone to soothe more , he says, easy, "Yo, Little Man, what did I promise you I'd never do?" . 

"Lie to me," Jack says, right away. "But, fuck, her phone is _off_ , Holder. What the hell?"

"Yo, you know I don't care, but your moms really don't like it when you cuss like you're gearing up to be the next Tarantino," says Holder. "She thinks I let you talk like that, and I'm gonna have a whole conversation I don't want to. She'll start with pork rinds and end with me signing up for an etiquette class."

It's a deliberate segue, because who worries about a little swearing when there's real trouble going down?

And Jack, bright kid that he is, gets that. He maybe isn't so quick to believe it, though, and says, doubtfully, "So she's okay, but her phone's off?"

“Yeah, exactly. Listen up, J-man, you rat me out, and we're gonna have some words about this, but I turned her phone off, and I got it with me. I needed her to catch a little more than a catnap, and anybody who really needs to talk to her right now – which is a grand total of one person, we gonna be honest – knows he can come to me, right?” 

“Yeah,” says Jack. “Always. But, dude, she's gonna kick your ass when she finds out you took her phone.”

“Got a plan for that. Turns out the battery is a little loose, sometimes, and when she set it down last night on the coffee it sorta popped out.” Damn, it's not the best idea to teach the kid how to trick his moms like that. “Special partner privileges, understand. I catch you doing that when you come back here, you really are going to be kayaking up some kinda stream without a paddle, hear?”

“Whatever,” says Jack, but Holder knows that's all teenage posturing. Sure, Jack's been doing his level best to turn all of Linden's hair grey in the last month, but that's got more to do with whatever went down with Sonoma, both the place and the man. He's got his pops, now, and his moms loves him like nothing Holder has ever seen before. Jack's gonna be okay. 

"So she's still asleep?" Jack sounds hopeful now, and Holder knows he nailed it. 

Nice to have one thing go right, even if it's lying to your partner's kid about her whereabouts. "Like a baby. Except I hope not really like a baby, because diapers are _nasty_ , right?"

Jack actually laughs, and Holder gives himself a gold star. There wasn't anything good about being a tweaker, but it taught him that the best way to sell a lie’s to believe it himself, and right now he can picture Linden on his couch, his brown, woolly blanket pulled up to her chin, curled in on herself with that soft, red hair falling over her face. His fingers itch to touch it.

"Don't wake her up, then, I guess," says Jack. "She can be kind of bitchy in the mornings."

"How am I going to tell that from all the other times of day?" says Holder, and then he laughs. "Nah, you know I think she walks on water. She's doing her best, right? Like you, out there with all those weird inlanders. You doin' okay? I hear the sun shines in Chi-town, now and then. You ain't careful, you're going to dry up, you know what I'm saying?"

"There's a big lake, you want me to go for a swim or something?" Jack said.

"In October?" Holder says, like he's thinking about it, and laughs again. "Now you just messing with me. I'm gonna catch another twenty winks, myself, that okay with you? I'll tell your moms you called, but once we wake up for good we got a real busy day. She misses you like nothing else, Little Man, and I know that she'll want to call, but you know how it can get, right?"

"Yeah. I know." Jack sounds quieter. The next bit, he says so quietly, Holder can barely make out the words. "She misses me?"

"Oh, boy, she misses you like she would miss her right hand. And that makes her extra special fun these days. But she talks about how your pops said he would get you in that good math class – all that crazy algebra we're both so good at, right? – and she thinks you might be eating a vegetable now and then, even if she doesn't know what they are, really. So don't you be worrying about her missing you. You two are gonna be all right, you know?"

"Yeah," says Jack, and now Holder can hear other voices in the background. Loud like a school before first bell, and a girl's voice calls out Jack's name. "I gotta go, Holder."

"You sure do," Holder agrees. "When those sweet, young things come calling, you can't be wastin' time talking to some punk like me. Second day of school, huh? Not too shabby, my man."

Jack laughs. "Tell her I called."

"Like I promised I would, you can count on that."

"Yeah." Jack pauses. "Take care of her."

"Always," Holder says, and Jack signs off. 

Well. Now he's made a promise to somebody else, the same promise that he made to himself the day Jack went missing. Linden might not like it, but he told her boy he was going to take care of her, and that's just what he's going to do. Time for some jailbreakin'.


End file.
